He'd transported us to a low-ceilinged attic. Patchy sunlight trickled through the gaps in the roof. I rushed him but he caught my hands in one wrist. My skin heated painfully under his touch. Electricity crackled between my skin and his, but he only laughed. "Knock yourself out. Can't feel a thing for all the scarring."
I jerked free. "You're a douchebag and should be plowed under like mulch."
"Volunteering for the gig?" Hearing Samson's all-American accent coming out of this ruined flesh was disorienting to say the least.
"Yeah. I'm a real humanitarian."
"You're a real little actress. I'm impressed with your performance."
"Thought you didn't like being fooled."
"Oh, I don't. You're going to die for that. But I appreciate showmanship. I've left you a gift. Rohan's gig was... illuminating. In so many ways."
I eyed the stairs but Adramelech blocked my escape.
He glared at me. "Are you listening?"